


Burn Me Up

by pintsandguitars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, College AU, Dom/sub, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Narry smut, One Shot, PWP, SMUT HELL YEAH, Side Lilo - Freeform, Smut, cheeky! charming! harry, doe eyed niall, well a little, well there's minimal plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pintsandguitars/pseuds/pintsandguitars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall burns too bright and Harry is like a moth to the flame.</p><p> </p><p>OR: They meet at a party and fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some Narry smut. I hope this is adequate. 
> 
> \--B <3

 

It’s one of those nights. Harry can feel it in his bones.

It’s one of those nights that make you feel alive, make you feel like you can inhale the universe into your lungs with one breath.

His body is buzzing with euphoria and he can feel the warmth of it all the way to his fingertips. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, preparing for the night ahead.

“What are you smiling about, curly?” Louis calls from the driver’s seat. They are riding in his beat up Wrangler, the 2000 model Louis had bought off his neighbour who was sixty and as blind as a bat. It had become their sanctuary, a place to sneak away to when school or family became too much.

“It’s going to be a good night, Lou. I can feel it,” Harry says with a lazy smile.

“You may be feeling that burrito you just devoured, mate,” Louis replies snarkily, rolling his eyes.

Harry lets out a hearty laugh, his chest rumbling with the deep sound. He turns his head to look out the window, at the cars passing by in a blur.

Yeah, it’s going to be a good night.

\--

“This it?” Louis asks as he pulls up to a white Storybook with brown roof trimmings.  It’s rhetorical, the question. They could hear the bass pounding from a block away. There were people spread out all over the lawn, cooler and beer empties thrown astray.

Louis parks further down the street, a trick they’ve learnt that saves the car from getting absolutely wrecked.

“DD?” Louis asks, offering Harry his keys in hope.

“No can do,” Harry refuses. “It’s my night. I can taste it in the air.”

Louis lets out a sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. Harry looks over to his friend, trying to fight down the guilty feeling that is taking over his stomach.

“We could catch a ride with Liam Payne? He never drinks,” Harry suggests, biting his bottom lip.

Louis lets out a snort. “Liam Payne? Quarterback, Class President, Mr. Perfect Liam Payne? Associate with mere mortals like us?  Please, Harry, don’t make me piss myself laughing.”

“Don’t be such a prick, Lou. He’s actually really nice,” Harry defends, mildly irritated.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s an absolute _angel_ ,” Louis presses, sarcasm dripping from his tone. Harry rolls his eyes at Louis, but refrains from pushing it. Louis always got really riled up whenever Liam Payne was brought up and he just did not want to get into it right now.

“Whatever, we’ll figure something out. Let’s _go,_ ” he whines. His throat is dry, begging to be quenched by the piss-like taste of warm beer.

Louis finally gets out, sighing heavily. Harry doesn’t know what his problem is, but he really hopes Lou figures his shit out soon enough because he’s not going to spend his night listening to him sigh like it’s the end of the world.

They have to step over a couple people who are already passed out on the lawn. Harry feels pitiful. It’s only eleven for god sakes.

Pushing open the door, they are hit with the strong scent of alcohol, weed and teenage hormones. Harry breathes it in, all of it. He loves the smell; it smells like recklessness, freedom, _youth._ He wants to lather himself in it, etch in into his skin so he can smell like it forever.

When he thinks about it later, it was probably a coincidence. But as he walks into the party, swelling with the feeling of invincibility, the DJ starts playing “Happy” by Pharrell. It adds to the high that’s coursing through his veins, and _fuck_ , life feelings amazing.

He grabs Louis’ arm and steers him toward the kitchen, his tongue craving for beer. But as he veers into the kitchen, he halts.

Because there is Liam Payne, holding the nozzle of the keg and filling the red cups of the people surrounding up, his chocolate brown eyes forming into little crescents as he laughs at something. His face flushed red, which automatically gives away how drunk he is. He hears Louis take in a sharp breath beside him.

“Thought you said he didn’t drink. Some angel,” Louis scorns, turning around ready to walk away. And maybe it’s the marijuana contaminated air, or maybe it’s his determination to have a good night, but Harry is not having it.

“No,” he says, tightening his grip on Louis arm. “Drop the ‘tude, Lou. Because tonight you’re _going_ to meet Liam Payne and you’re _going_ to like him.”

“Fuck off, Har—“ Louis starts to say, trying to tug his arm loose from Harry’s grip. But Harry is stronger. And louder.

“Liam!” he shouts over the music. The crowd surrounding the keg all snap their eyes toward him, along with Liam.

Recognition flickers across Liam’s face, and his face breaks out into a smile again. “Harry!” he shouts back, “Want some beer?”

Nodding eagerly, he looks over to Louis, whose eyes are stabbing into him like daggers. If looks could kill…

He tugs Louis along, who surprisingly doesn’t fight back as hard as Harry expected him too.

“Hey, Liam! This is my friend, Louis,” Harry introduces, shoving Louis out from behind him.

“Hi,” Louis says, bluntly. Harry feels like smacking him. Instead, he gives Louis a little pinch.

Liam’s eyes slide over to Louis face. “I know Louis,” he says quietly, licking his lips.

“You do?” Louis gasps beside him. His electric blue eyes are soft now, nothing like the icy glare they had held for Harry. His cheeks are tinted too. One look at his face and Harry _finally_ understands the problem.

Louis _likes_ Liam.

Fuck, how did he not catch that before?

“Yeah. You, uhm, switched the school flag with the Rasta Weed flag, right?” Liam asks, turning an even deeper shade of red that he already was.

Louis eyes light up and he nods enthusiastically, “Guilty.”

“I thought that was hilarious,” Liam coos, his smile stretching across his entire face now.

“Mrs. Burnsbury didn’t,” Louis laughs, his entire face lit brightly. Liam laughs along with him, clasping Louis shoulder.

Harry’s catches Louis shiver slightly at the sudden contact. But as happy he is for his friend, he’s also really wants some beer.

“Hey, don’t mean to interrupt but mind if I fill my cup? I’m parched,” Harry speaks up, motioning to the nozzle in Liam’s hand.

“Oh yeah, sorry man,” Liam apologizes. He hands it over to Harry without taking his eyes off of Louis for a single second.

They fall into a steady conversation, Liam laughing like Louis is Kevin Hart himself. As he fills up his cup, Harry looks over at Louis and he swears he has never seen his friend look this giddy in his life. He mentally pats himself in the back for making this happen (sort of).

With a full cup in hand, Harry leans against the counter basking in the jaunty atmosphere, smiling to himself.

But he starts getting bored very soon because Liam and Louis are too enveloped in each other to pay any attention to him.

“Argentina is definitely taking the cup home this year,” he says, trying to throw in his two cents about the World Cup that’s going on this summer. Liam looks startled, like he’d just remembered that Harry was standing beside him.

“Shut up, Haz. You know shit all about soccer,” Louis huffs dismissively. Then he goes on to tell Liam about the time Harry called a corner kick a “kick off” and Liam snorts out his drink. Liam retaliates with a story about his sister and how she scored in her own team’s net once. And just like that, they fall back into their trance, leaving Harry alone to stew in his own boredom.

With one hour gone by and four cups of beer emptied into his stomach, Harry is getting anxious. This was supposed to be _his_ night. He can feel it. Well, he could an hour ago anyway. Now all he feels is the numbness of the alcohol and the unevenness of the floor as the room around him subtly spins.

“I’m gonna go mingle,” he shouts to Louis, but Louis is too busy melting into Liam.

His arm is hooked around Liam’s waist, and Liam has his arm possessively around Louis’ shoulders. Liam’s bending down, whispering something into Louis’ ears that makes turn bright red. Harry _swears he_ sees Liam nibbling on Louis’ earlobe.

“ _Well, at least one of us will have a good night,_ ” he thinks to himself, bitterly. He’s happy for Louis, of course he is, but he wants to be happy for himself too.

Pushing his way through the throng of people, he makes his way to the living room from where the music is blaring. There are so many bodies now that the air is sticky with sweat. As he passes through the house, he feels random people grinding up against him in a drunken haze and he even feels someone pinch his bum through his jeans.

It’s when he’s spinning around to try and catch the perpetrator of the bum-pinching that Harry sees him.

When he sees Niall Horan.

There is a crowd surrounding Niall, listening to him intently. It looks like he’s telling a story, his hands all over the place and his expressions dramatic. Everyone is captured by him, Harry being no exception.

And that’s because Niall Horan _shines._

Even now, nearing midnight in the middle of a party, where every else’s matted hair and drooping eyes have dulled them out, where the shenanigans of the night have caught up with them and their fatigue-ridden faces. Whereas everyone else looks as dull as an old penny, Niall is absolutely _radiant_. His pink cheeks and wild hair has Harry wiping his sweaty palms on the back pockets of his skinny jeans and breathing in shallow breaths.

Everyone laughs at something he says, and his face breaks into a smile so wide that Harry has to look away; shield his eyes from the brightness.

Niall Horan shines as bright as the sun.

Harry’s heart flutters as Niall’s lets out a hearty laugh. He can’t take his eyes off him as he talks animatedly to his willing audience.

Maybe it’s true when people say that you can tell when someone is looking at you. Because suddenly, instead of Harry trying to figure out the exact shade of Niall’s eyes, they’re staring right back at him.

_Cornflower blue._

Caught red-handed, Harry goes with the first thing that comes to his mind. He smiles. It’s forced, unpretty and he reckons it probably looks more like a grimace, but it works because Niall smiles right back, his eyes crinkling wonderfully at the corners.

Harry’s heart drops to his knees. He needs more beer, pronto.

Making his way back into the kitchen, he stops to notice that Liam and Louis aren’t there anymore.

“ _Little shit is getting lucky”_ , he thinks to himself as he goes to pour himself some more beer. But he finds the keg completely drained.

“Fuck,” he curses a little too loudly. A girl with long blonde beside him looks up, startled. “No more beer,” he explains with a dramatic pout.

She smiles back at him flirtatiously, her unabashedly eyes scanning his body. “You can have my vodka, if you want. I think I’m done for the night,” she offers with a bat of her eyelashes. She pulls out a 750 ml of Smirnoff from behind her that’s still 3/4 full and holds it out to him.

 He considers letting her know that no matter how much she bats her eyelashes at him, they’re not going to set him straight. But then he decides against it because he’s got no morals anyway and he really wants the damn vodka.

“Thank you, babe,” he says with a wink, grabbing the bottle by the neck. The girl giggles and flips her hair over her shoulders.

“Come find me later,” she tells him and he nods noncommittally, walking away before it goes any further.

Morals are overrated, anyway.

He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a sip. The vodka tastes acidic, burning his throat. As soon as it hits his stomach, he feels like puking it back up.

“Up for sharing some?” a voice calls from behind him.

He spins around to tell whoever it is to fuck off when he finds himself staring into a pair of blue eyes.

_Cornflower blue._

“Niall,” Harry gasps before he can stop himself.

“Harry, right?” he asks. Harry nods back slowly, still trying to process what’s happening.  

“So what do you say?” Niall asks.

“What do I say to what?”

Niall gives him an amused look.

“Sharing the vodka…” he explains, chucking a little.

Harry’s eyes widen and he feels his cheeks burning.

“Yeah – Yes, of course,” he stammers.

Niall smiles at him, all soft and beautiful with those candy pink lips, and Harry suddenly feels a burning desire to kiss them.

“Wanna go outside? Can’t fucking breathe in here,” Niall says, fanning himself.

“Sure.”

With his eyes strictly on Niall, Harry follows him through the party and out into the backyard. The night is a little chilly, so not many people are out here. They find two patio chairs and sit down.

Harry takes another sip of vodka for some more liquid courage. Apparently, it works because there are words pouring out of his mouth that he has no idea where they came from.

“Irishman and vodka? Something’s not right,” he says and Niall laughs again. It rings soundly in his ears, like a beautiful melody. He passes the bottle over to Niall, who grabs it with both hands and takes a quick swing. He wipes his lips on the back of his hand and makes a face, trying to deal with the taste

“Fuck, that’s awful. Can’t believe they ran out of beer. And at a fucking kegger, too. Disaster, I tell ya!” Niall proclaims, shaking his head in mock dismay.

“Mm, I don’t know. If they hadn’t run out then you wouldn’t be sharing a bottle of vodka with me out here. So maybe it’s not a complete disaster,” he tries to be smooth, adding a slow smile.

 God, this is why he loves alcohol. It gives him rush of confidence, of feeling like he’s not a gangly and awkward seventeen year old that tells too many bad jokes.

A smile plays on Niall’s lips and Harry can tell he’s trying to be suave too, but the pink tint of his cheeks give him away. He is glad Niall’s skin is so milky, lucky that it gives away even the slightest bit of emotion. It fuels Harry with another dose of tenacity and he can feel the charm seeping out of his pores.

“I don’t know. Maybe I would have found you anyway,” Niall shrugs nonchalantly. But he turns his face away to hide a smile and Harry feels his heart swell up.

They hear the party going on behind them; the random outburst of laughter, the beat of the music ringing softly in their ears.

They pass the vodka back and forth, not saying anything, just letting the alcohol pollute their blood and cloud their minds.

Harry closes his eyes, feeling the vodka burn up his stomach. He can’t even take the bitterness of the alcohol anymore, just drinks it like it’s water.

“So what’s your deal anyway, Styles?” Niall slurs, putting the bottle down on the patio with a clang. He stands up, looming over Harry.

Fighting hard to open his eyes, he finds himself staring up at Niall’s beautiful face. Bathed in the pale glow of the moon light, with his twinkling blue eyes, he looks like part of the night sky. A shining star.

“You shine so fucking bright, you know that? Like the sun,” Harry mumbles in a daze.

Niall’s cheeks flame up and his eyes drop to the floor “Oh.” He scuffles his feet on the floor, his head hung low.

“It was a compliment!” Harry explains hurriedly, teeth between his lips. He sits up too quickly trying to reach out to Niall, and that’s when he feels the alcohol hit him.

Niall looks at up at him through his lashes, a shy small resting on his delicious lips. “I figured. I just didn’t know how to reply to that,” he admits. A laugh escapes his mouth, filling the atmosphere with a warm, alluring sound.

“You could have just said thanks, blondie. Gave me a scare,” Harry admits, leaning forward on the chair so his face is closer to Niall’s.

Niall laughs again and it sends wonderful shivers up Harry’s spine.

“Come, let’s dance,” Niall says, grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him clean off the chair.

The suddenness of the action, mixed with the amount of alcohol they both drank, concocted with the not-so graceful nature of Harry Styles was, to say the least, not a good combination. Because just as soon as Niall pulls Harry up, they both go tumbling to the ground, limbs flailing about.

Niall ends pinned underneath Harry, staring up at his seductive eyes and porn-star pink lips and it sends an enticing shiver between his legs.

Harry bites his lips as he feels Niall’s hot breaths ghosting over his lips. His wide blue eyes stare unblinking at him, full of curiosity. Harry’s entire body ignites at the thought of watching them darken as Harry slowly tugs him toward orgasm, letting desperate moans escape through his lips as he begs Harry to let him come already.

He leans down slowly, making sure to press every inch of his body to Niall’s. Harry feels Niall stiffen underneath him and slow breaths come a stop. With every centimetre, he feels Niall’s grip his shirt tighten.

 But instead of stopping at his lips, Harry surges forward and brings his lips right up to Niall’s ear.

“Well, at the very least, I did get you underneath me,” he blows. Niall goes limp for a second, then Harry feels a strong force pushing him upright.

“You’re such a fucking prick,” Niall huffs as he dusts of his jeans.

Harry smiles mischievously at him, eyelashes batting slowly. “And you’re so fucking pretty,”

But instead of a laugh like he expected, Niall turns sharply on his heels and walks back into the party, leaving Harry to regret the teasing all together.

“Niall!” he calls, but the pounding sound coming from the speakers overrides his voice completely. Deflated, he heads back into the party to try and salvage whatever he could of the night.

As soon as the steps inside the house, the heat slams into him and he immediately wants to be back outside in the fresh air beneath the starry sky.

“Niall fucking Horan,” he mutters as he tries to push and shove through the throng of people who are ‘dancing’ (it’s dry humping is what it is, but who is he to judge?).

As he (finally) finds his way out of the crowd, he sees Niall standing on his tip toes talking to the DJ. A DJ who seems to be too touchy-feely for Harry’s liking.

“Could you play some Jason Derulo?” he hears Niall ask.

“Sure thing, babe. Talk dirty to me?” the DJ winks, reaching out to move Niall’s hair out of his eyes. Harry hears Niall giggle and grits his teeth as jealously courses through his veins.

Shoving through just a few more people, he finally reaches the DJ table.

“Hey,” he shouts over the music, trying to keep his voice steady.

The DJ’s head snaps up at him, but Niall’s doesn’t even seem to hear him.

“Did you have a request?” the DJ asks him.

“Nah. Just came to hang out with my _date_ ,” he emphasizes, slinging an arm around Niall’s waist.

“Date?” the DJ asks, eyebrows shooting up.

Niall _finally_ turns to look at Harry, and his expressions mirrors that of the DJ. “Date?”

Harry shrugs, tightening his arm around Niall’s waist and pulling him closer. “I sure wish.”

A small smile plays on Niall’s lips and Harry breaths a quick sigh of relief.

“If you want to be my _date_ , it’s not going to happen at a grimy party that’s got people puking just a few feet away. C’mon, Styles, thought you were the charming type.”

“I have no clue who fed you such deceptive ideas,” Harry smirks, shrugging. Niall playfully shoves him and Harry bumps his hips in return.

This banter is something Harry could get used to. He really could.

“Let’s go dance. Zayn’s going to play my request next,” Niall says, hooking a finger into Harry’s belt loop and pulling him towards the crowd of people moving vulgarly to the music.

“Zayn?” he asks.

“The DJ,” Niall explains and Harry feels another surge of envy.

“You know his name?” Harry asks, trying to be nonchalant. He shoots a quick glance toward the turntables where the DJ, or _Zayn_ apparently, is bobbing his head in tune to the music.

“’Course. He’s been my best friend since like kindergarten,” Niall shrugs.

Harry immediately feels his shoulders loosen up. “Best friend. Best friend!” he shouts, earning a very confused look from Niall. He grins back brightly, eyes shining.

 A remixed version of “Talk Dirty to Me” staring blaring through the speakers just then and Niall pulls them both onto the dance floor.

“I fucking love this song. ‘ _First class seat on my lap girl, riding comfortable’,”_ Niall sings along, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. His face is lit up, sweat glistening of off his forehead and he just _glows_.

Harry imagines how gorgeous Niall would look sat in his lap, riding his cock and whimpering as Harry fucks into him hard. He imagines how flushed his cheeks would be, how mussed up his perfectly gelled hair would get as Harry tugs on it roughly as he’s fucking into Niall’s mouth.

Suddenly, his jeans are too tight and he can’t take the distance between Niall and him anymore. He reaches out and hooks an arm around Niall’s waist, pulling him closer so Niall’s back is flush against his chest.

He grabs Niall’s hips and starts gently rutting against his arse, making sure that Niall can feel how desperate Harry is for him.

Niall let’s out a gasp at first, but then starts grinding harder against Harry. Harry clutches Niall’s slender hips, digging his fingers into the bone as he strains even more against his tight skinny jeans.

Burying his into Niall’s neck to keep from moaning out loud, he gently nips at the skin between Niall’s neck and shoulders to keep his mouth busy. He feels Niall shiver underneath him and _fuck_ he can’t take it anymore.

“I want you so fucking bad,” he whispers into Niall’s ear, gently biting his earlobe.

Niall flips around so fast Harry doesn’t even know what’s happening. He gives Harry a grin which would have been innocent as they come if it hadn’t been for the blazing look of _lust_ in his blue eyes.

Standing on his tiptoes, Niall whispers “follow me” into Harry’s ear. He wraps his hands out Harry’s wrist and tugs, giving him a smile of pure ecstasy.

Harry gulps, eyes fixed on the back of the blonde’s head as Niall leads them through the dense crowd, stopping every few seconds to rake his criminally blue eyes up and down Harry’s body.

He leads them to a dark hallway that’s tucked away in the corner, one that you would totally miss if you weren’t looking for it. But apparently Niall was.

Niall stops in front of a door that has a large Irish flag pinned up on it. He looks up at Harry through his lashes and smiles a sultry smile.

“You want me?” he asks, voice raspy and low, laced with ample lust.

Harry nods back slowly, not trusting himself to speak. Niall steps closer, reaching out to run his hands up and down Harry’s arms.

His fingers send dancing flames along Harry’s skin. Every inch of him is scorching and he can feel himself turning into nothing but charred remains. That’s what happens when you get too close to the sun; you burn up.

“How bad?” Niall asks, again in that throaty voice. His hands are on Harry’s hips now, pulling them closer together. Harry can sense Niall’s shallow breaths against his neck, he can hear his heart pounding away steadily, he can feel the heat _emanating_ off of him and – fuck-- Harry wants to burn up.

He wants to jump into the flames, toss his entire body into the feverish chaos. And so he does.

Seizing Niall from around the waist, he pushes him up against the door and slips his right leg between Niall’s thighs. They’re mere inches apart now and Niall’s pupil is blown so wide that Harry can just barely make out the ring of blue around them.

And then he closes the gap.

His lips press roughly against Niall’s and he can feel his bones ignite. He embraces the rush, drowns himself in the _feeling_ that’s flowing through his body.

The kiss is wet, needy and so fucking _hot._ Niall opens his mouth immediately and Harry licks into it, snaking his fingers through Niall’s hair.

Niall ruts against the leg Harry presses between his thighs and Harry feels his cock swell up.

“Inside,” Niall pants against Harry’s mouth and Harry nods. Bucking his hips upward a little, he easy lifts Niall off the ground and wraps his legs around him waist.

“ _Fuck_ , Harry,” Niall whines as Harry nibbles along his color bone, diggings his nails into Harry’s back in desperation.

He finally locates the doorknob and turns it, both of them tumbling back into the room.

Niall slides off and shuts the door impatiently. 

The lights are on inside and it’s then that Harry can see the look of pure hunger in Niall’s eyes, set ablaze with libido.

Harry can’t think straight. Only one thought seems to be running through his mind right now and that thought is _Niall._

Niall throws himself at Harry, greedily pawing his jeans. His lips are on Harry’s again, tongue running playfully along his bottom lips.

Harry replies by wrapping his arms tightly around Niall’s waist and pouring into the kiss, wanting to discover every corner of Niall’s mouth.

He guides them toward the bed, Niall landing with the soft _plunk_ as his knees hit the edge. His eyes are trained on Harry as Harry drops to his knees in front of him and pulls his legs open.

“S’okay?” Harry asked, grazing his fingers along Niall’s belt. Niall nods back eagerly and Harry lets out a soft chuckle.

Fumbling a little, he manages to undo Niall’s belt and toss it to some corner of the room.

“Lift,” Harry instructs, not taking his eyes off of Niall’s darkened eyes. He does as he’s told, bucking his hips off slightly so Harry can pull his jeans off.

As those are tossed away as well, Harry fixes his eyes on the tented boxers in front of him. The pre-come has already left a dark, wet spot on them and Harry can’t help but lick his lips as he thinks about the sight underneath.

“ _Fuck,_ Harry, just take it off,” Niall begs.

Harry gives him a lazy smile, adding a wink for extra flair. Hooking his fingers into the elastic band, he pulls the thin boxers off with one quick pull.

Niall’s erection tugs free, springing up to rest against his pale stomach. It’s thick, gorgeous, leaking already.

Knowing that Niall wants him this bad, that he’s so ready for Harry, makes his dick ache so hard that he can’t see straight.

But no, right now it’s about Niall.

Harry licks his lips slowly, eyes piercing into Niall’s. “You gonna fuck my mouth?”

Niall’s eyes widen and he nods frantically. “Fuck yeah—yeah.”

Harry leans forward, grabbing Niall by his base. Niall let’s out an obnoxious moan, begging Harry to just take him into his mouth already.

He tugs painfully slow on Niall’s shaft, loving the whimpering sounds escaping from Niall’s mouth.

“H-Harry _please,_ you fuck—fucking son of a bitch,” Niall squirms under Harry’s teasing touches.

Moving his mouth forward, he sticks his tongue out and licks a stipe up Niall’s cocks, twirling it around on the head. Niall’s hips buck forwards needily and Harry is more than willing to let him take the lead.

Harry pulls both his arms behind his back and gives Niall one quick nod. He watches as Niall gulps, eyes back to the wideness of their nature. But then they darken and Niall smirks, twisting his fingers in Harry’s hair to bring his face closet to Niall’s crotch.  

Harry opens his throat up as Niall fucks into his mouth, moaning Harry’s name sinfully.

He gags a little, Niall’s thickness filling his throat up, but he loves the burn, the challenge. He lets Niall take all that he can get, lets him deep so he can feel good, so _Harry_ can make him feel good.

Niall’s close to coming. Harry can tell because his movements get a little rougher, sloppier.

“Harry, I’m—ah—I think,” he pants in difficultly, trying to keep his eyes trained on Harry. Niall tries to tug away, offering to pull out, but Harry grabs his by the back of his thighs to keep him in place.

Niall is trying to focus, but his eyes are rolling to the back of his head as Harry bobs his head up and down.

“Harry,” he huffs, tightening his fingers in Harry’s hair.

Then, just as he’s reach orgasm, Harry grabs him by his base and twist just a little. Niall comes so hard that he stops fucking Harry’s mouth. Harry keeps pushing on, watching as Niall’s eyes loll to the back of his head and he screams out Harry’s name. The spurts of come shoot down Harry’s throat and he swallows all of it, lapping it up like a kitten with milk.

“You taste so good, babe,” he says after pulling Niall out of his mouth. Niall just looks at him, dazed, eyes unfocused.

“Want to taste yourself?” Harry asks, climbing on to the bed and onto Niall’s lap.

Niall nods slowly, finally coming back to his senses. Harry presses their lips together, immediately sliding his tongue into Niall’s mouth so he can taste his sweet and salty self.

His hard-on is painful, desperate for friction. Harry grinds down haphazardly on Niall’s lap begging for any kind release.

Niall lies back and let’s Harry climb on top of him, rutting greedily against his thigh. Harry whimpers at the rough contact, wanting, _needing_ something more.

He feels Niall’s fingers running underneath this shirt and let’s Niall pull it over his head and toss it to the side.

Niall starts planting kisses across Harry’s jaw and he feels the flutter of Niall’s lashes against his skin. Then Niall reaches down and rubs Harry’s throbbing cock against his tough, calloused hands.

Harry lets out a growl, pressing further into Niall’s hand because _fuck_ he can’t take it anymore. Niall is underneath him, compliant and docile, ready to take whatever Harry gives him.

So Harry is going to give it to him.

He grabs Niall by the waist and flips him over so Niall’s lying face down on the bed.

“Shirt. Take it off, now,” he commands. Niall does so as he’s told and lies beneath Harry, ass facing up, completely naked.

His milky body is dusted with brown freckles and his arse is pale and plump, just ready to be bitten into.

And so Harry leans down and gently bites into the soft flesh. He hears Niall let out a low moan.

“I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers first, yeah?” Harry tells Niall. “Get on your knees and open up nice and wide for me babe,”

Harry watches as Niall pushes himself up onto his knees and his arse parts open, putting his tight pink rim on full display for him. He can’t help it, he needs a little lick.

Lowering his face to level Niall’s rim, he sticks it tongue out and give it a little cat lick. He feels Niall jump and smirks smugly to himself.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a tiny bottle of lube and a condom he always has handy. Most nights they go unused, but it’s night like tonight he praises himself for the quick thinking.

Lubing his fingers up, he teases Niall’s entrance a little before pushing in. Niall let’s out a gasp.

“S’good?” Harry asks, raising his head. He needs to make sure Niall’s comfortable, to make sure he’s not hurting him.

Niall’s face is buried into a pillow and Harry can see him biting into it’s soft cotton. But he nods, letting out another blissful moan, so Harry slowly moves the finger in and out, letting Niall get used to the feeling.

“Second,” he lets Niall know as he pushes his middle finger past his entrance too. Niall goes rigid for a second but as Harry moves his fingers a little, he starts to relax. He uses the two fingers to stretch Niall out, curling them slightly to flick against his prostate.

Niall starts moving along Harry’s fingers himself now, pushing his arse up and down. He whimpers deliciously, letting out breathy groans.

“Fucking slut. Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers,” Harry snarls, the sight intoxicating him. He drinks it all up, shuts of his brain to just watch.

“ _Harry_ ,” Niall whines and he suddenly remembers what he’s supposed to be doing. He adds a third finger and listens to Niall’s corrupted cries, vowing to memorize them before the end of the night.

“Ready for me, Niall? I’m gonna fuck you now,” Harry says with a low voice, making sure Niall hears every syllable that comes out of his mouth.

Niall doesn’t say anything, face buried into the pillow, too susceptible to talk.

Harry _finally_ undoes his jeans and feels an unearthly sensation wash over him as his erection is finally freed from its denim cage.

Niall lifts his head and turns around slightly, trying to take in the image of Harry lubing up his cock.

Harry watches as Niall’s eyes darken watching _him_ , and fuck he needs to get inside him now. He rips open the condom packet and slips it on easily. He lines his cock up with Niall’s hole and veers forward. As his cock fills Niall up, they both let out an amorous moan in unison.

“Fuck, Niall, you’re so tight around me. So—so fucking good, babe,” Harry pants, trying too hard to string words together.

Niall whimpers agains, fingers digging into his sheets as he pushing further back into Harry.

Taking the hint, Harry starts moving his hips, speeding up.

“You gonna take it all, babe? Huh, Niall? You’re going to take all that I give you, aren’t you?” Harry growls, taking in the sight of Niall slowly coming undone beneath him. There are beads of sweat trickling down his neck, making his body glisten beautifully.

Fuck, everything about Niall is beautiful.

Niall doesn’t say anything, just fucks himself on Harry cock with his face buried into the pillows. Harry knows he’s doing that so he doesn’t scream Harry’s name out again, doesn’t sound as helpless as he feels.

But Harry’s not having it. He wants to listen to Niall’s blissful agony, wants to hear him moan with passion.

He leans forward to grab Niall’s hair and lifts his head off the pillows.

“No. I want to hear you, Niall. I want to hear how you sound when I make you feel good, when you feel _so_ good,” he barks.

Niall’s back is arching as Harry pulls him up by his golden locks. It looks so animalistic, so raw, and Harry can feel himself building up to orgasm already.

He starts speeding up now, fucking into Niall harder, rougher.

“Fuck—Harry—keep going. Holy _shit_ ,” Niall croaks, spreading his legs even wider so Harry can push in further, hit his prostate harder.

Every nerve in Harry’s body is lit up with sensation. Sparks of pleasure reach all the way down to his toes and he presses his eyes shut so he call feel all of them. He feels the familiar warmth pool up in his stomach and he knows it’s going to happen soon.

“Where do you want me to come, Niall? Across your stomach? Wane me to drip down your ass?” Harry pants, his balls slapping against Niall’s ass as he rams into him faster, more frantic.

“Inside – I want you –ah—inside me,” Niall pleads, eyes squeezed shut trying to manage the overwhelming sensation.

And that’s all Harry needs. Because just as those words leave Niall’s mouth, Harry feels his orgasm slam into him hard, exploding savagely inside his body. He arches his back, continually fucking into Niall as he rides through the waves of pleasure coursing throughout his body. He hears someone shout Niall’s name, lewd and throaty; he soon realizes that it’s coming from his mouth.

As he riles down from his orgasm, he feels Niall go rigid beneath him, coming, so he pounds deep into his prostate, making him cry out Harry’s name in filthy splendor. Niall comes all over his stomach and his sheets, shuddering. Harry pulls out gingerly, taking of the condom and tossing in into the trash by Niall’s door.

They stay like that for a while, panting against each other, trying to recover. Harry runs his fingers up and down Niall’s spine, admiring the little bumps.

Niall moves first, crawling out from underneath Harry and grabbing some tissues off his desk. They clean each other up, letting their fingers linger on each other’s skin for a moment longer than they needed to. They touch every part of each other’s body, even the ones that are clean, just losing themselves in each other.

After disposing of their tissues and tossing the come-stained duvet to the side, they both lie in bed under another blanket, cuddling.

Niall has his face buried into Harry’s neck and Harry is thoughtlessly running his fingers through Niall’s hair.

“We should leave soon. Don’t even know whose room this is,” Harry wonders aloud.

“Don’t worry. This is my room,” Niall yawns, nuzzling his nose into Harry’s neck.

“What?” Harry asks, unsure if he had heard right.

“Yeah. It was my party. Sorry we ran out of beer,” Niall says softly, titling his head back to look at Harry. Harry smiles sweetly at him, at his wide blue eyes so kind and genuine.

“Eh, I had fun anyway,” Harry chuckles deeply, pressing a kiss into Niall’s forehead.

“Me too,” Niall whispers back, eyes falling shut into slumber.  

Harry feels the fatigue take over him slowly, too, weighing down eye lids and making his bones ache from exhaustion.

Just as he’s drifting off to sleep, he finds himself mumbling “So, about that date…”

He feels Niall chuckle into his neck.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Styles. Let me sleep.”

He buries his nose into Niall’s hair and takes a deep breath. Niall smells like bubble gum. That makes sense. 

He feels an odd sense of warmth has taken over his body. That makes sense too. He got burnt red today; his heart ignited and left his skin inflamed.

Niall Horan is the sun and Harry's caught in flames, but _fuck_ if he wants to stop burning.

THE END.

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